Just A Conversation
by Violett Prescott
Summary: Set during War Storm, when the Lakelanders trade Maven off and he becomes Cal's prisoner. On the plane back to Montfort, Cal decides he needs answers. He confronts Maven by himself, speaking to his brother alone for the first time since the betrayal. Cal thinks he knows what to expect, but Maven is scared and angry and the conversation doesn't go as planned...
1. Anticipation

_**Hello, all! Finally, I've added the next chapter! Naturally, all rights go to brilliant Victoria Aveyard! Also, sorry for taking so long (*cough, over a year) to add the next part! Next time, it'll be faster.**_

_"Send him across," Cenra says quietly, waving a hand toward Maven._

_All of this seems wrong, as if filtered through smoked glass, too slow to be real. But it is. The Lakelander guards shove Maven ahead, making him stumble toward his brother. He still grins, spitting blood, but tears gleam in his eyes. He's losing control, and the tight grip he keeps on himself is coming undone._

_He knows this is the end. Maven Calore has lost._

_The guards keep shoving, never letting him catch his balance. It's a pitiful sight. He starts whispering to himself, harried words between peals of sharp laughter._

_"I did as you said," he mutters to no one. "I did as you said."_

_Before he can fall at his brother's feet, Anabel steps forward, planting herself firmly between the pair of them. Protective as a tiger._

_"Not a step closer to the true king," she growls. The woman is smart not to trust him, even now, with nothing left._

_Maven sinks to a knee and runs a hand through his hair, mussing the dark, wet curls. He glares at his brother with all the fire he can no longer possess. "Afraid of a boy, Cal? I thought you were a warrior."_

_At Cal's side, Mare tenses, putting a hand to his arm. To stop him or to push him on, I don't know. His throat bobs as he swallows, deciding what to do._

_With aching slowness, the last king standing puts a hand on the hilt of his sword. "You'd kill me if our places were exchanged."_

_Breath whistles through Maven's teeth. He hesitates just long enough, leaving space for a lie. Or the hope of a lie. There is no predicting the mind of Maven Calore, or what face he allows anyone to see._

_"Yes, I would," he mutters. He spits blood once more. "Are you proud?"_

_Cal doesn't reply._

_The ice blue eyes shift, jumping to the girl at his brother's side. Mare hardens under his gaze, firm as tempered steel. She has every reason to fear him, but hides it all._

_"Are you happy?" Maven asks, almost a whisper. I'm not sure who the question is for._

_Neither says a word._

* * *

**Cal's POV**

I can barely move as the queens leave, their guards dragging Salin's limp corpse in their wake. I'm stunned. Nanabel has to usher me toward the dropjets. Her gnarled hand on my back, though so lethal, is a comfort. Mare follows behind us. I can hear her boots sloshing in the receding tide still flooding the forest floor. She walks slowly, staying as far away from Maven as she can. I would too, if I could.

He's ahead of us, lead by Davidson and Julian, to keep him quiet. A Montfort guard grips each of his arms. I can barely look at him, even his back, but I force myself. Our guards drag him as the Lakelanders did, making him stumble through the water. Humiliating him. I know my brother's pride.

The thought runs through my head again. If there was any way to save him, I would do it. There must be a newblood whisper somewhere, stronger than Elara. Davidson hasn't found one yet, but maybe-

I watch as Maven trips, earning a blow to his back from a guard's rifle. I wince for him. The boy who was responsible for the death of my father, the loss of my kingdom, all of Mare's pain. This whole war. The boy who has haunted me, tormenting me to no end. The boy I can't help but love.

We reach the beach, leaving the sparse green forest behind. I breathe a sigh of relief coming out from the cover of the trees. Now, at least, there can be no surprises. Not that there would be any. The Lakelanders don't have any more business with us. They've had their revenge. Salin's waterlogged remains flash across my consciousness. The guards drag Maven towards the second dropjet.

"I'll go with them," Nanabel says gently from beside me, "You need some rest. We'll handle it."

I picture my brother being interrogated by Julian, Davidson, and Nanabel. He wouldn't say anything useful, just petty lies to get them going in the wrong direction. And if there was anything of substance, I, as usual, would be the last person to know. I can't let that happen. Besides, I have my own questions to ask.

"I think I'll ride with him by myself."

"What? Cal, dear, you don't need to-"

I look into my grandmother's fiery eyes that match my own. "I have to talk to him."

Nanabel frowns, shaking her head. "That is unwise. You know how that boy is. His words are his greatest weapon."

"I'll be fine," I assure her, "Besides, he won't have an audience. I'm dismissing the guards."

Nanabel shakes her head, but she walks away. She knows I have made up my mind. I'm stubborn like that. And if I am going to be king, I should be able to make my own decisions. Mare moves to stand next to me, only speaking to me once my grandmother is out of earshot.

"Cal, are you sure you want to do this?"

I turn to her. The wind snatches at her hair, whipping it around her face shadowed by a frown.

"I need to know. I need to know if I can fix him."

Mare looks at me pityingly, like I'm a tender child who can't accept the truth. I find that look so irritating. My fingers itch to alight, but I keep calm, meeting her gentle eyes with burning determination. She is the first to look away. "Do whatever you have to do." She hurries toward the first dropjet. I head toward the guards, who are shoving Maven toward the second jet.

"Hold!"

They freeze at the sound of my voice. Julian and Davidson turn around, confused. I step forward. The guards shove Maven to his knees on the puddled beach. He is dripping wet from being dragged through the flood, his dark uniform heavy and sticking to his ghostly pale skin. He refuses to look at me, instead fixing his eyes firmly on my shoes, speckled with glistening droplets of water. I clear my throat. "I'll take it from here."

"What do you mean, your highness?" Premier Davidson steps out from behind the guards, looking concerned.

"I need a private audience with the prisoner."

The guards look at each other dubiously, but they have been given orders from the king. They bow and walk away. Davidson nods skeptically, but, trusting my judgement, he follows behind them.

Only Julian remains.

"Cal, what are you doing?"

"I have a few things speak to Maven about," I say with as much confidence as I can muster. I glance down at my brother, still unmoving at my feet. "Would you mind releasing him from your singing?"

Julian hesitates, trying to figure out what it going on, then sighs. He understands. I suddenly hear Maven's ragged breath.

"Thank you, Julian," I say softly. He touches my shoulder as he walks away, as if he is giving me his blessing. I watch him as he goes.

I turn back to Maven, still kneeling on the ground. His breath comes quickly. Instinctively, I hold out a hand to help him to his feet. He scoffs.

"I don't need your help," he mutters under his breath, standing up on shaking legs.

I don't respond. I expected as much. I grip his upper arm as the guards had. He flinches at my touch like he expects me to burn him. He's afraid. He's afraid of me, of what I could do to him now that he's weak and unprotected. _At least he has a guilty conscience_, I think to myself. I keep my eyes on him as we head for the dropjet. He walks slowly, carefully, his fingers twitching, his lips set in a thin line. His ice-blue eyes dart around the beach, taking in everything - the dunes, the sea, the endless sky. As I watch him, I feel a pang in my chest. I haven't been this close to my brother for months. But I push the thought away. I need to have a clear head, not muddled with lost hopes and doubts.

The circling engines roar in my ears, the wind mussing my hair around. We board the jet quickly, and I shut the door behind us, sliding the latch. I release Maven's arm to knock on the sliding door that divides the cockpit from the rest of the jet. The pilot nods through the little round window, flicking on the engine.

I'm used to jet takeoffs by now, but my stomach flips as we climb in altitude, not because of the change but because I am in a locked room with Maven. I've had nightmares about this before. This and beheading my father with a sword. I have the power here, I remind myself, I have the strength. But Nanabel's words come back to me. His words are his greatest weapon. _But they can be my weapon too._

I have to find out if I can fix him. I must, before I let anyone else tear away at his mind. Then my chance will be gone.

I turn back to my brother, who sits silently, slender fingers woven together, knuckles white. He doesn't make a sound as I walk past him toward the cabinet in the back of the jet, which is full of extra uniforms, medical supplies, and, most importantly, towels. The nymph episode was bad enough, but I didn't know if I would make it through the flight soaked in water. It gives me chills and makes my stomach churn. I am most vulnerable in water.

I grab a towel from the pile, then, on second thought, take another. I turn and walk over to Maven, still soaked to the skin from being dragged through a flood by a nymph. I toss the second towel into his lap. He flinches when I drop it, hastily regaining composure.

"What's this?" he asks, a shadow of a sneer crossing his gaunt face.

"Thought you might want one," I reply calmly, sitting down across from him.

He gazes at the towel, smoothing it in his lap.

"Won't you just get it over with?" he asks suddenly, his eyes rising to meet mine.

"What?" This catches me off guard. Maven avoids my gaze, biting his lips to keep them from trembling, and repeats himself.

"Just do it, Cal. Don't make it hurt too much... if you still care." His shoulders slump out of the perfect posture he always maintains, his eyes full of pain as he carefully observes the towel, suddenly finding it fascinating. His hands shake in his lap and he digs his nails into his palms to try to still them. I stare, shocked, as he waits. For me to kill him.

**What do you think? Comments, thoughts? Both positive and constructive greatly appreciated! ;)**


	2. Patching Up

_**Alright, next bit here. Sorry the chapter is so short, but I'll make up for it in the next one! BTW, I wrote this kind of late at night, so forgive me for any glaring grammatical errors ;)**_

**Cal's POV**

I don't respond for a moment. My head spins. Kill him? Well, isn't that what we've been trying to do all along? The Guard, Montfort, everyone. But now, with the opportunity sitting across from me with folded hands. My hands reach for the cool hilt of the sword handing at my side. I could end this all now.

My mouth goes dry. Maven sits perfectly still, save for his shaking hands. He bites his lip, nearly drawing silverblood. He's trapped, and he knows it. Here's my chance to get my answer. Here's my chance to fix him.

I get up steadily and approach my brother. Standing, I tower over him. I hear his breaths, quick and petrified. He doesn't trust me. He knows I can do whatever I want with him. I'm sure it terrifies him. Slowly, deliberately, I kneel down, so we're on the same level. Maven keeps his eyes fixed on his lap.

"Look at me," I murmur softly, an order, not a request. To my surprise, his gaze lifts to meet mine. Tears gleam in his eyes.

Suddenly, I'm at a loss for words. He's right here. This is my chance to save him, to heal my brother's mind from Elara's torment. But I can't find the right thing to say. I've never been one for words.

Silver catches my eye. I look down. Maven's hands are scraped from being dragged through the flood. More silverblood soaks through his uniform.

"You're hurt," I observe.

"I suppose I am," Maven mutters. "The body doesn't take kindly to betrayal."

I don't stop to decipher his meaning, but jump to my feet, returning to the cabinet in the back of the dropjet. Finally, something I can do. There aren't any healers around, so my hands find the alcohol and bandages. I quickly return to Maven's side.

"What are you doing-" Maven snaps as I take his hand, opening the bottle of alcohol with my teeth. He winces as I pour the stuff onto his cuts, instinctively pulling his hand away. I hold it tighter.

"Hang on just a minute, Mavey," I implore, expertly wrapping his hand with a trailing bandage. _Shoot_. I catch myself after I say it, glancing up at him. He doesn't seem to have noticed the nickname. I move on to the second hand, cleaning and dressing the wound in a quick movement. "Better?"

"You could say that," Maven acquiesced, flexing his fingers.

"Take off the jacket," I tell him, ready to tackle the wound underneath.

"I'd prefer to die with my clothes on, thank you," Maven replies wryly. He says it casually, but there's a tension behind his tone I don't miss.

"I'm not going to kill you, Maven," I murmur, locking eyes with my younger brother.

Maven's eyes narrow. "Why?" He can barely hold back the inevitable next sentence. _I'd kill you, if our places were exchanged._

"Why would I have wasted supplies on a corpse?"

Maven glares at me, crossing his arms. "That's not good enough."

I feel a smile creep across my face. It's almost like old times again. Proof we're brothers - neither betrayal nor war can't stop our brainless bickering. But now I have an idea. I think I've figured out how to get my answers.

"Let me look at that wound and then we'll play a game." I've entered his territory. Bribery. Mind games.

Maven sneers. "What kind of game?"

"I'll tell you when we're ready to play."

Maven rolls his eyes, but I've caught his attention. With his bandaged hands, he unbuttons his black uniform jacket and shrugs out of it. Underneath, the white shirt glistens with silverblood, torn by a blade. "What happened to you?"

"Oh, where to begin," Maven mutters ruefully.

"I won't ask." I tear away the bottom of the shirt, taking a close look at the wound. It's not deep, but still unpleasant, oozing silver.

"Brace yourself," I warn, before dripping the alcohol onto the injury. Maven hisses in pain, his hand instinctively grabbing at my shoulder with a bone-shattering grip. I dab at the wound with the bit of torn fabric from his shirt, and begin to dress it.

"You've given me a new appreciation for healers," Maven mumbles, quickly releasing my shoulder. I think I catch a faint flush in his cheeks. "Now what was it you said before about a game? Or was that just a bribe?"

"No, really. I want to play a memory game with you. I'll tell you one of my memories, and then you'll tell me how you remember it happening. Make sense?"

I pray he doesn't catch on to what I'm trying to do, but Maven just laughs harshly, "That's the stupidest game I've ever heard of."

My hand finds the hilt of my sword and Maven closes his mouth quickly. "I make the rules, now. We're playing the game."

_**Comments? Critiques? What should happen? Should I switch the perspective, give you a chance to hear from Maven's tortured mind? Any thoughts much appreciated!**_


	3. A Memory Game

_**Another chapter so soon! And this time, you hear from the shadow himself. Enjoy!**_

**Maven's POV**

I know what Cal's doing. I'm not stupid. Of course, it's not like I get much of a choice. I have to go along with it. The sword glinting at my brother's hip does wonders for persuasion.

But really, I'm curious to see what damage Mother did. The full extent of her ability. How much did she hack up, tear apart, deconstruct and put back together. Even I can't tell the difference anymore between what's mine and what's hers.

The wounds from the nymphs still sting, but the pain is fading. I'm never one to shirk at pain. I am the rightful king. I don't shirk at anything. So why does the boy across from me make my mouth go dry and send a tingle down my spine?

Cal watches my every move, searching for some sign of… I don't know. What is he looking for? What is the point of all this? I should have suspected his weakness. But I must confess, until a few minutes ago, I thought he just planned to slit my throat and be finished with it. When he took me into the dropjet alone, I was nervous, I'll admit it. Whatever he was planning, he couldn't do in front of everyone. He didn't want anyone to witness it; not Iris and the nymphs, not his grandmother, not Mare. I was expecting vicious mutilation. He wants to play a memory game.

"Okay, let's start when we were just kids," Cal says, sitting back down in the seat across from me, his face masking all emotion. A king's face. I grit my teeth. "Like that time with Holland," he recalls. "I think I was about nine, and you were eight. We got into so much trouble. From what I remember, we locked him in your bedroom and melted the knob off the door. He was stuck there for hours. Father got so mad, I couldn't even believe it." His eyes light up, remembering our father. His father. That man was no father to me.

"I do remember that day," I say softly, "Father had to call Volo Samos to repair the door, and made us watch him fix it. Then he took us into the throne room and thrashed the living daylights out of us. We couldn't sit for a week."

Cal nods tentatively, "Good. That's - uh - good. Let's do another one."

"This is a stupid game," I remind him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm enjoying it," Cal retorts, and I see the smile playing around his lips. "What about that time… I think we were a little older, and we started to play chess in my room at night. We'd meet almost every evening, after Father and Elara went to bed. Remember that?"

"Yes, I do." The image of the board with all the little pieces lined up in rows floats into my mind. "You would always win, your king taking out mine."

Cal's smile fades. "I just played with Father a lot," he muttered apologetically. "I picked up the new tricks from him. He thought it would teach me war strategy."

"Obviously, it didn't work." My mind goes back to the flood, Iris and her mother exchanging me for Salin. The king sacrificed for a pawn. Bad move.

Cal ignores the insult, his mind whirring. "When we were older, you would come into my room at night sometimes too. You would get nightmares, and you'd climb in my bed almost every night. It's the only way you could sleep."

What?! I feel my cheeks heat up like molten metal. I don't remember that. I don't remember that at all. "That didn't happen. You're lying. I remember the nightmares…" I shudder. "But I don't remember going to you," I sneer. "I would never. Mother would come into my room during one of the episodes and take them out."

Cal's eyes narrow, "What do you mean take them out?"

"She would kiss my forehead and draw out the nightmare. Eventually, I just stopped having them at all," I explain matter-of-factly. But my gaze drops to my folded hands. Did I really go to Cal? He wouldn't say it if it wasn't true. How could I have forgotten that completely?

"I'd stay up, waiting for you to knock. You were so quiet. You'd sneak in and slip into my bed around midnight. But by the time I woke up the next morning, you were gone. I always thought you woke up and went back to your room. Did Elara take you back?"

"Maybe she did." I can see Cal cringe at the thought of Mother in his room while he was asleep. But I know for a fact she never touched his mind. No matter how much she wanted to, she knew her life was worth more than that.

"What were those dreams about?" Cal asks softly.

I purse my lips, thinking. "I don't remember most of them. But after - the Choke, they always were about…" I trail off, pressing my fingers to my forehead. Pain. Blinding, white pain. It always happens when I think of him. Him. Thomas. Tears prick behind my eyes as I rub my temples furiously.

"Maven, what's wrong?" Cal asks anxiously, returning to his knees in front of me. "What's going on?" He forces me to look at him, taking my hands in his own.

"Breathe, Mavey. Just breathe. Look at me. Shut it out. Put up walls."

Somehow, I understand what he means. I've heard those words before, long ago. Has he helped me do this before? Something else Mother took out. The pain sharpens, like a needle pressing slowly, sliding through my brain. I try to block out the parts of my mind. I grip Cal's hands, knuckles turning white. He squeezes back. I think it's starting to work. It's just like drawing curtains at a theater. Slowly, the pain recedes. I'm left gasping, eyes watering.

Cal is silent for a moment. Finally, he speaks. "You remember that, don't you?"

"What do you mean?" I murmur, breathing raggedly.

"We practiced this. Whenever she tried to break into your mind. I'd help you get her out. We did it together, Maven."

My breath catches in my throat. "It happened every time I thought of him. When I thought of Thomas. She made it so that even a passing memory tears me apart."

Cal stares at me, his flaming eyes boring into my own. He looks at me, bemused. Puzzled. I am a puzzle. An impossible puzzle.

"What I don't understand is, how can this still be happening? She's dead, Maven," he says softly. "She can't control you anymore. It's impossible."

"But she can," I whisper. "She does."

_**Ooo, so mysterious. The fourth and final part is coming soon!**_


	4. Two Kings

_**This is it! The final chapter! I tweaked it a bit from the original posting. Hope you all enjoy!**_

**Cal's POV**

_"But she can," Maven whispers. "She does."_

I watch him carefully as he wipes his eyes with the back of a shaking hand. "It's because of the things she took out. Whenever I think of those things, she gets to me somehow. When I think of Thomas," he winces. "And Father. And-"

I cut him off. "What do you mean? Did she survive? How? How can she still do this to you?" I implore him. "It's - it makes so much sense, but why?"

Maven's eyes narrow. "Why do you care?"

My breath catches in my throat. "What?"

"Why do you care so much?" He scowls at me, crossing his arms over his chest. "What difference does it make to you whether or not Mother still messes with my head? So what? I get headaches. What's it to you?"

I draw a slow breath. "I want to help you. If she's still controlling you, that means there's still a chance. Maybe there's a whisper in Monfort, who's stronger than Elara who can fix you…" I trail off awkwardly. Maven stares at me, emotionless. I feel my face heat up. Is he angry? I open my mouth, then close it again.

"You - you want to fix me?" Maven asks.

I nod fervently. "Yes, Elara did such horrible things to you, Maven. Someone in Montfort could help. I want to see if I can get back the brother I know. The one I played pranks and chess with. The one who snuck into my room every night." I feel myself overstepping, but I keep going. My voice sounds so pathetic, desperate. I don't sound like a king, just a sad boy. "I want my Maven back. Not the monster Elara created in you."

Maven is quiet for a moment, his ice-blue eyes staring into mine. "You think I'm a monster?" He doesn't await an answer. "You think I'm broken? That I need to be fixed by you, and Mare, and those Montfort freaks?"

"No-no, Mavey. That's not what I meant. It's just-"

"Don't "Mavey" me, Cal," Maven snaps severely, but he can't conceal the hurt in his eyes. "I should have known you would pull something like this."

"Maven-" I plead. "You know what I'm trying to say."

"And what's that?" Maven asks bitterly.

"I-I love you," I murmur softly, "I don't want to be enemies anymore. I want us to be brothers again. And I know, somewhere in there," I gesture to his head, "you want that too."

Maven sits in silence. "So you want things to go back to the way they were?" he asks, his voice dead and monotone.

"Yes," I say hesitantly.

"So you want to be king, then? And I'll be the shadow, again. Forgotten once more," he says dramatically.

"No, Mavey, it wouldn't be like that. It would never be like that again," I implore him. "I-I'd give you half."

A pause. "Half of what?" Maven asks skeptically.

"Half of Norta," I say firmly. "We'd rule in a balance. After we drive the Lakelanders out. We have plans, Maven. Once we're in power again, there won't even _be_ Lakelands to fear. Then, we could improve the lives for all the Reds. We would be the greatest monarchy in history. Two kings, equal rulers."

"What about the queens?" Maven asks softly.

I grow quiet. I hadn't even thought about queens. Evangeline isn't really much of an option anymore. But Mare… _What if she went back to him_? What if, when he was fixed, she wanted him again? But that's a risk I have to take. _She should be happy, right?_

"If there is to be a queen, she will be chosen for love. Like my father chose his wife. No more Queenstrial. And she, of course, will have to accept."

Maven looks at me, impressed. "You're willing to do all that? For me?"

The dropjet begins to decline, turbulence rocking the winged machine. I nod enthusiastically. "Yes, of course! I want us to be brothers again. I love you, Mavey."

Maven's face breaks into a smile, his blue eyes warm and gentle. "Yes. I l-" Suddenly he goes quiet. His eyes harden. "I don't think that will work."

I freeze. "What do you mean?" I ask hesitantly.

Maven's eyes narrow. "What if I told you I know I can't be fixed?"

It's like he punched my in the stomach. The wind is knocked out of me and my heart nearly halts altogether. _Can't be fixed. _My Mavey. Of course he can be fixed. If he can't then... "W-what?" I choke. "How do you know?" Through the tiny window above Maven's head, I see the ground drawing nearer. My chance is slipping through my fingers. _Can't be fixed. Can't be fixed._

"I was king of Norta until a few minutes ago, Cal," Maven reminds, picking at his fingernails. His jaw tenses. "I have my connections. You didn't think I have searched the continent for help? Of everyone, I should know. It's impossible." His eyes glisten strangely. The dropjet reaches the ground, touching down onto Montfort soil.

"Mavey, it is possible," I say desperately. "You'll see. Did you have contacts in Montfort? Maybe there's someone here who can help."

"It doesn't matter," Maven snaps. He massages his temple with his fingertips delicately, mumbling to himself. Something like "I'm trying, I'm trying..."

"Maven, what-" I begin._ It's Elara. She's getting to him again._

"It's not too good a deal anyways. To go from complete power to only half?" His closes his eyes for a long moment, then opens them again. "When my position improves," he says mater-of-factly, "and I am returned to my throne, I will be careful not to make such poor decisions, brother. It seems Father's efforts at chess haven't helped you much at all. You don't trade a king for a pawn." He clicks his tongue ruefully.

I stand up, reaching for him. "Maven, listen-"

The door of the dropjet bangs open, bright light filling the tiny room. Guards storm in, followed by Nanabel. They grab Maven's arms and begin to haul him out the dropjet.

"Wait- hold! Guards!" I shout, but this time, they don't pay attention. They are following Nanabel's orders, not mine.

As the guards grab his arms, Maven's mouth twists into a smirk. "But I do owe you my thanks, Tiberias Calore the Seventh. With this new information about your plans for ousting the Lakelanders and establishing a new form of government, you've created a very dangerous insider in me, haven't you. What trouble it will be if I'm captured."

The guards drag him out of the dropjet, leaving me, gaping. I sink back to my seat. _Elara. She got to him before I did. Elara. I was so close..._

Then it occurs to me. She takes control when he thinks of the things she took out. _Like Thomas, and Father, and..._ me. It was my fault. _When I told him - when he tried to say he loved me. That's when it all fell apart._

Nanabel stands in the wide doorway of the aircraft, but her eyes are full of pity.

"Nanabel, I-" I whisper hoarsely.

"My poor boy. I tried to tell you," she says, shaking her head.

"What do you mean?" I mumble. My eyes sting as the guards disappear into the distance.

Nanabel comes to sit beside me, taking my hands in her own wrinkled ones. "You played his game, and you lost. Words are his greatest weapon."

_No, _I think to myself. _He is Elara's son. And her weapon to wield._

_**Agh, painful, isn't it. Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. ****Please review! ****Keep your eyes open for my next Maven&Cal fanfic, **_**Silverblood and Water**_**.**_


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